Alex downed his sixth pint and lurched to his feet. "Back in a sec, mates." he slurred, as he made his way unsteadily to the men's restroom. Half way through the process of relieving himself, the world exploded into noise and darkness.
He'd fallen against the wall, bruising his head against the pipe-work. Pain flashed across his back; he instinctively reached over to feel the wound and his hand closed around the chunk of broken glass embedded there. He pulled it out, slicing his hand open in the process. The lights were out, the windows were smashed and the whole building was shaking. Alex had only one explanation for this, earthquake, but how could an earthquake on this scale happen in England? Screams began to ring out over the rumbling and roaring, multiplying as the panic spread. Adrenaline coursed through his system, fighting the alcohol to get him moving. He had to get out of here, the earthquake was showing no sign of abating and the whole building could come down on him. He barreled forward down the corridor out of the lavatories, dripping blood and urine, and emerged into a scene of utter chaos.
Over a hundred drunken pub-goers were trying to force themselves through the building's two exits, screaming, shouting, punching and kicking at each other. The scene was lit only by a glowing orange light streaming in through the windows. Alex couldn't understand why the earthquake was making people so desperate that they'd risk being crushed to death… wait, was that light coming from a fire? He tried to jogged over to the windows, but caught his foot on an overturned stool and went crashing to the ground. Ignoring the fresh bruises, he hauled himself up and stared in horror at the scene outside. A wall of glowing lava over a meter high was advancing inexorably down the street, surrounded by flames and smoke from the burning buildings and crowned by the twisted wrecks of cars being carried along by the flow.
Another crash, this one startlingly close. Someone had thrown a chair through the next window along, carrying most of the broken glass and wooden dividers out into the street. He turned in time to see two of his mates leap through the window. There was no time for thoughts of rescuing others, he'd be lucky to save himself. Alex clambered out through the shattered window, heedless of the fresh cuts to his hands, and recoiled from the blast of heat that scorched his skin. He began to jog away from the lava, towards the city centre, but he made one crucial mistake; he looking back. The lava flow had accelerated as more rock poured into the channel, and the intense heat seemed to scorch his eyes. The world dissolved into pain as he tripped on a kerb and fell sprawling. The only mercy was that his suffering lasted only seconds before the lava washed over him. Well, that part of his suffering anyway. As everybody now knew, death was only a temporary respite.
MD 902 G-SYPS
Sergeant Webster groaned as he fought his way back to consciousness. His head throbbed with pain, which the pounding roar and ragged whine were only exacerbating. He forced his eyes open. The forward cockpit canopy was a crazy patchwork of cracks and holes. The helicopter seemed to have landed on a building… no, it was partially embedded in a saw-tooth roof. The rotors were still turning; the pilot was fiddling with the flight controls, but far from shutting down, he seemed to be trying to start one of the engines.
"Taranaski? What are you doing? We have to bail out."
Private Hughes' voice answered over the intercom. "Sir, Corporal Sinker has concussion and I think a dislocated shoulder. I broke my leg in the crash. There's no way we can make it before… well… look to your right."
Sergeant Webster twisted around to look behind the aircraft. The whole area was shrouded in smoke and flames, but one thing stood out very clearly; the river of lava pouring down the hill towards them. They weren't in its direct path, but that small mercy could buy them only minutes at best.
The whine from above intensified and took on a discordant, surging character. "Got it" yelled Taranaski. "Port turbine spooling up, hang on, I'm trying it again."
Peter waited for the rotor RPMs to build to the maximum then eased back on the collective. The Explorer trembled and began to lift. The crew could barely hear the cracks and squeals of strained metal over the din as the bird struggled to free herself from the twisted metal roof supports. The cabin tilted backwards and then halted, shuddering.
Private Hughes pulled himself over to the gaping opening in the side of the aircraft; the door had been ripped off in the crash. Leaning out into the ferocious downwash, he could see the problem clearly. "It's no good sir. The skids are wedged in good. The forward struts have snapped but the rear ones are holding us fast." He looked up just in time to see another of the glowing rocks slam into a nearby apartment block, shattering the few remaining windows and starting fires across several floors.
He had to cut through those struts. What tools did he have? Just one. Jamie reached for a spare. 50 cal magazine.
Royal Hallamshire Hospital, Western Sheffield
Rebecca Burdett stared out through the empty window frame at the vast lake of smoking lava that mere minutes before had been the university campus. From her vantage point on the seventeenth floor she could see countless human forms running, staggering and crawling away from the inferno. Everwhere she looked people were dying, caught by the flames, collapsing under the heat or obliterated by a flaming boulder.
She turned away. There was no doubt about it, the hospital had to be abandoned. The lava seemed to be flowing away from them for now, but several of the hospital buildings had been hit by the boulders and looked ready to collapse. The ground fires were advancing steadily despite the inrushing air and the earthquake showed no signs of abating.
The fire alarm was already blaring, but the nurses she could see were still transfixed by the scene outside. "Snap out of it! We have to move!" Rebecca sprinted through the ward to the reception area, where she snatched up the microphone for the P.A. system.
"Everyone, your attention please. This is Matron Burdett. The hospital must be evacuated as quickly and calmly as possible." She delivered the words with a slightly eerie calm. "Patients, if you can walk, go to the lobby area via the stairwells, do not use the lifts. Otherwise please wait for a member of staff to assist you. Do not leave the building. Transport will be arranged."
Rebecca clicked the microphone off, then pulled out her phone and punched the button for reception. The extension for reception was busy, of course. Cursing, she dived into the stairwell, pushing past the throngs of people that built up steadily as she descended. By the time she emerged into the lobby it was already packed with shouting and screaming patients.
"PLEASE REMAIN CALM" she shouted, in a tone that did not sound like a request. "THERE IS NO IMMEDIATE DANGER." Not really true but it seemed to placate the crowd for now. "Non-critical patients, move in an orderly fashion to the car park. We don't have nearly enough ambulances for you all so we'll be using private cars."
She finally made it to the reception desk. David was usually pretty competent but he seemed ready to have a nervous breakdown. "Rebecca, thank…" He caught himself.
"What the hell is going on?"
"Don't know. Some sort of attack, massive fires. We have to get the patients out, that's all that matters."
"I tried to call Northern General but I couldn't get…"
"Forget it. They're probably in the same boat as us, or will be soon. Now take Tracy, Mark and anyone else you find on the way and get to the car park. I don't want anyone leaving without a full load of patients. Tell them to go straight to Manchester."
"Manchester? But…"
Rebecca grabbed the man's shoulders. "There's massive casualties out there. Everyone local will be overwhelmed. Now get moving."